Tinariwen: Imidiwan

It has been a long while since the Cricket chirped musically, so it is high time to do something about it! Let me thus introduce to you the Tuareg seven-piece musical collective known as Tinariwen from Mali. Their style has been described as Desert Guitar Blues. The irony is, perhaps, that Tinariwen is rooted in traditional West African music that itself is the ancestor of the American Blues. Add Malian influence (think Salif Keïta and Ali Farka Touré), plus Tuareg and Berber, mix in a few sprinkles of Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Santana and Dire Straits, and you’ll get a unique blend that sounds simultaneously modern and as old as the world, both pleasantly familiar and surprisingly otherworldly. Other reviewers use words as “hypnotic” and “mesmerizing” to describe Imidiwan (“Companions”; 2009), they refer to the scorching Saharan sun and the dusty desert winds, they allude to their rebel past and their persistence not to cater to Western commercial pop rock expectations. All of this is good and true. Yet it hardly comes close to prepare the listener for the beautiful music of this album. The Cricket hears layers of ragged (mostly electric) rhythm guitars over a dragging bass, droning percussion, hand claps and finger snaps. Above the rhythm section soar sinewy melodic leads that remind these ears of John Lee Hooker and J.J. Cale. Then there are the achingly wistful vocals full of deeply personal emotions that resonate across the globe – even if we cannot comprehend the lyrics (translations are included in the booklet). Celebratory choruses offer occasional reprieve, especially on the upbeat “Lulla.” It’s only the bonus track “Desert Wind” that sounds out of place – as it moves gratuitously into Brian Eno territory. Still, those last few minutes should not detract anything but the warmest recommendations. Have a listen yourself. Tinariwen will soothe your soul.